


Found Myself in a House I've Never Been Before

by QueenofFennoscandia



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst, Dimension Travel, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Romance, Time Travel, Tragedy, but not really, but still kind of, continuation from where the canon left, kind of, the rest is full on au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-09-18 15:13:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9390485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenofFennoscandia/pseuds/QueenofFennoscandia
Summary: Yuuri was almost sure that this was reality. His favorite tea blend could be found in the kitchen cabinet on left, and the teapot was on the top shelf, exactly as he favored. Two important thoughts went through his head. Could he even skate anymore, and more importantly, did any of the people he knew exist?





	1. Chapter 1

Waking up happened slowly.

The sheets did not feel familiar, but then again, those days it was not that strange. After all, competitions kept him moving, taking him to different countries, cities and hotel rooms. What was strange, was the comfortable scent of home. It smelled like home. In a strange way, it felt like home.

Yuuri fought his eyes open.

It was a more difficult thing to do than he expected. The feeling of his eyelashes stuck together woke him up at once. It hurt. He jumped to a sitting position, crossing his legs. His ragged breathing sounded heavy to his own ears.

After panicking a moment for not being able to see, he brought his fingers to his face. He felt the gross dried rheum covering his eyelashes. He rubbed his eyes furiously, trying to get it all off. When Yuuri finally opened his eyes, it felt like he had been crying, like he had been having a flu or a serious eye infection. It was disgusting, and an awful way to wake up.

He still expected to find himself in a hotel room, but the place…it did not seem like one. This was someone’s apartment. It was a well lived room, with personal items laying around, a home.

Yuuri’s eyes stopped on to familiar looking glasses. Next to them was a book he had started to read six months ago, but stopped, not being able to focus on it because of the competitions getting closer. Skating had always been a better way to relax anyway. He had no idea why the book was there, he did not even remember what it was about.

Hesitantly, he reached for the book and opened it from where the corner of a top page had been folded. It was his way to mark the page, but he did not remember reading the novel past the chapter four. The marked page was from the chapter nine.

He put the book back to its place on a nightstand, and picked up the glasses instead. Pushing them up to his nose, he surveyed the room. What could he say, it was a room, just a regular room that could have be found in anywhere in Japan.

But still, it was stranger. This room, for some unexplainable reason, looked like Yuuri’s. It had to be. He was staring at his skates sitting on the table on the other side of the room. Something told him that they had not been moved from their place for weeks. The feeling was confirmed as he stood up, walked across the room and touched them. A light pile of dust gathered over his fingertips. Not weeks – for months.

Yuuri bit his lips. They were his skates, no doubt.

He looked his surroundings more closely. Some of the possessions in the room looked familiar, some things he had never seen before. Something was wrong. This place was wrong.

Yuuri felt his skin prickling and pulse fastening. Nervously he moved to where the windows were. He shifted the plain white curtains slightly to see outside. Swallowing, he waited a one second more, then yanked the curtain fully to the side.

The daylight streamed into the room and blinded him momentarily. When his vision returned and the blurry scenery started to sharpen, he realized it. It did not look familiar, in opposite, he had never seen this place. He did not recognize the city, not this part of it at least. Maybe it was Tokyo, he could not be sure, but the tall building that could be seen through the narrow gap between houses started to look more and more like Tokyo Skytree.

Yuuri brushed his fingers through his hair and forced himself to look away from the view. He had to calm down. He stopped himself from running out of the room, and made himself calmly proceed to the door. It opened easily, which made him sigh for some reason. He was not taking part in a Saw-movie at least. Yuuri let out a humorless laughter.

The rest of the apartment did not surprise him in anyway. Just as he had gathered from the bedroom, it was a normal apartment complex. Nothing strange about it, nothing more than it was his apartment. Though, Yuuri did not remember ever getting one. He was pretty sure he would, if he had.

 _Phone_ , he remembered suddenly, and rushed back to the bedroom. It was on the same nightstand where his glasses had been. He felt silly for not seeing it before. Gingerly, he took the devide. It must have been his, even though, neither the phone model nor its covers looked familiar. The lock code was the same as in the phone he remembered having since he was teenager, fortunately.

Right away he went to the contact page and swiped through them. Yuuri knew that he was not the most social person out there, but the amount of the contacts was alarmly small even for him. What truly got him was that none of his family members’ numbers were there, none of them. And no Minako, no Yuuko, no Takeshi. He did not even have Phichit’s number. There was no Viktor. He was sure, he went through the short list seven times.

Giving up, he threw the phone on to his bed. It hit against the wall, but Yuuri could not bring himself to care. He was too abashed to even bring himself to properly freak out. Instead, he stood in the middle of the room for maybe twenty minutes, in confusion.

“Hello?” he said aloud, just to make sure it was truly him speaking.

In daze, he stumbled to the bathroom. He washed the rest of the dirt from his eyes. The sound of his voice was familiar, the figure staring back from the bathroom mirror was him. But there was something off-putting in that particular room, so he walked out, not letting himself agonize too much over it.

Yuuri looked around the house. He was afraid to leave the building, finding it more comforting to lock himself to the apartment and stare at the neutral colored walls and go slowly through his stuff.

From his laptop, he found photos, but not the ones he had been looking for. The ones he found he had not seen before. But still, it was him in those pictures. There were skating photos when he had been in his early teens. The competition places did look familiar, and he could even tell the cities from the skating rings. Yuuri in the pictures was wearing competition clothes _he_ never had.

Yuuri felt his eyes stinging when he could not find even a single picture of his family. He shook his head and leaned back on his computer chair. The first tears ran slowly, then suddenly he was hiccupping, and they kept pouring down.

The competition pictures stopped when he was at the age of fifteen, or so, in them. After that, there was even fewer photo files. There were faces he could not recognize, and there was no sign of those he was missing.  

He went through every document he could find in this house about himself. Then Facebook, but for his disappointed, or relief, this unfamiliar Yuuri did not seem to be any better making updates on it. His Instagram seemed a little bit livelier, but everything looked so unfamiliar, so he turned the phone off after seeing enough.

He had found out a few things. His name was, indeed, Katsuki Yuuri. He was not a professional figure skater, but he had a stable job. This place, located in Tokyo, was definitely his home, so much he could tell from the bills tucked neatly in a drawer. And according to one of the personal files, Yuuri Katsuki was an orphan.

But _this_ person was not _him_ , he could not be.

Maybe, he was what might have been. Was this world a slightly twisted version of his own, or something completely else? Something less? Something more?

Yuuri could tell what had happened to this person. It seemed obvious to him. Even though, this was not his life, everything seemed very easy to figure out. He could tell right away what this life had been missing. Not feeling confident enough, no one backing this person financially, having no family, no contact, no… Viktor – this person had given up on skating.

Under the bills, there had been a neatly folded little article ripped out of a new paper about a promising career of a young Japanese skating prodigy. Yuuri knew he had never been a prodigy, not particularly gifted, he just worked hard. He always kept going, but this person had given up, and he seemed to be a slightly masochistic for saving the article of him as a reminder of what he could have been. Disappointment, succumb to the defeat and self-doubt.

He had let out a small heartbroken laugh when he had seen a photo which picture side was turned down at the bottom of the drawer. As he had picked it up he could not help smiling slightly.

_Some things never change, huh?_

Long haired Viktor in his performing outfit had looked breathtaking with the blue roses crowning his head.  

 

* * *

* * *

 

Three hours had passed, and Yuuri was almost sure that this was reality. His favorite tea blend could be found in the kitchen cabinet on left, and the teapot was on the top shelf, exactly as he favored. He had been sitting in the kitchen, tea cup warming his hands, and thinking.

Two important thoughts went through his head, and it was not strange at all that the first one of the two was the question: could he even skate anymore? What if he had not skated in years and could not manage even the basics? Then he felt awful when he realized what he really should have been worrying about. Did any of the people he know exist?

He rushed to his laptop which he had left on the top of his bed before he had relocated himself to the kitchen to calm down. Yuuri almost slipped over the papers and documents he had left in messy piles next to the bed. His balance still seemed to be somehow intact, as he smoothly avoided the collision with the floor and moved to the bed.

Bringing the laptop on to his lap, he started to tap the keyboard. All he could think about was the home pages. He could find about Yutopia. If the inn was running, surely the pages that Mari made would exist. He kept mistyping the letters as his hands would not stop shaking.

_If only I could just manage to write a couple of words!_

Yuuri shook his head in frustration when he finally finished writing to the search bar, pushed the enter button and sighed loudly. The first search suggestion looked familiar.

There it was.

The pages opened, and Yuuri’s eyes widened to the sight of somewhat identical pages of the ones Yuuri was used to. Maybe a couple of pictures were different, but it was the same pages. This was Yutopia.

Taking a moment, he stared at the front page, gathering enough courage to click the ‘about’-link. What Yuuri remembered was an introduction text of a family business in Hasetsu, in an addition of a family picture of four in front of the gates of the gates. What he got, was almost a copy of the usual text…and picture of three people. There was his family, his whole family, just not him.

The eyes focused to the date in the corner of the computer screen.

 _This_ Yuuri Katsuki, who owned this apartment, was 24 years old. But strangely, the year was not 2017. No, it was four years behind the date he remembered living in, before waking to this day. The person he remembered himself being in 2013, had been just twenty. Today, when he woke up in this apartment he had never seen before, it was like reality had been turned upside down.

Where was the person who lived there, and why was he there instead?

 

* * *

* * *

 

When Yuuri called to his work place, they told him that he had taken a one month off from work for vacation. The kind old lady who received his call sounded somewhat worried of him. She told him that he was being strange. Yuuri did not know how to answer. He hanged up without any words.

Suddenly, the half empty water glass of white wine, which had confused him earlier – for he never drank alone, made sense on the top of the toilet seat. The empty sleeping pill bottle on the kitchen counter and a few dropped white pills on the floor, couple of them in the bathroom sink, no dirty dishes nor dirty clothes on the floor, the fridge that had been emptied.

Katsuki Yuuri, who had lived in this place, had planned to die.

And maybe he had.

 _But it cannot not be me_ , Yuuri though _. It cannot be, because I’m alive. I’m here. The life I live is real. I have a family, I have the figure skating, I have Viktor, I have-_

The thought of swallowing all those pills rushed in.

What if those pills were in him? What if he will die? He did not want to die.

He ran to the bathroom and threw the toilet seat up, knocking the glass still on top of it to the floor and spilling the alcohol. Yuuri let his knees buckle when he felt something coming up. The nausea stopped soon, and nothing more came out than some watery liquid.

Yuuri ran his hands over his body, needing to know that he was still the person he remembered. He let himself hope as he touched his legs, feeling the muscles of a hard-working figure skater. What he noticed was that he still was in the same good shape as he had trained himself to be when he trained with Viktor. The same well defined muscles were in their places. This was not a body of a person who had not skated for a long time.

Sitting on the floor, he remembered the pictures. There had been a longer hair even in the few recent pictures he had found of his look-alike.

Picture.

He needed to find a picture of Yuuri living in there.

On the laptop he scanned again through the pictures, trying to find the newest one of him.

He sighed loudly with relief.

It certainly looked like him, it did. It was just that, as he remembered, this person had slightly longer hair that could be even pulled to a little ponytail. And it was not like he was in a bad shape, let’s just say that he was closer to the body type of Yuuri during his slump.

So, maybe this Yuuri...had died, as much it pained to think that. And somehow now he was in this person’s place.

But Yuuri could not understand. Just a moment a go he had been in…

He had been…he…

Where exactly had he been?

Yuuri furrowed his eyebrows, trying to remember.

 _Right!_ He had been in Hasetsu with Viktor and Yurio, after the Grand Prix.

The two of them had gotten up early. Yuuri had woken with Makkachin jumping onto his bed, waking him up with a scare. He had slept in. Yuuri had been so happy for being home, with his family, with his friends, with his almost lover.

He could remember that it had been a beautiful morning when he ran to the direction of the Ice Castle. Makkachin ran in front of him rushing to reach Viktor who was waiting on the bridge with Yurio. Victor waived, Makkachin ran faster, Yuuri grinned happily but did not fasten his pace. Yuuri was almost there. Just a little bit more.

But he never got there, he realized. The memories of that moment flowed back to him and he remembered.

Viktor’s smile being wiped out of his face, a loud screeching noise coming from somewhere, getting closer. Then a sharp pain on his left side, a pain coming from right, being pushed hard against the bridge’s railings.

Then nothing.

No memories of hospital sounds, nothing after the last impact.

Had death crept on him just like that?

Was this hell - losing everything he had?

Yuuri did not believe in fate, he never had. Still, for some reason he got the life someone threw away. He had the feeling that he might never know why. So many things felt so very distant. Had he been run over in front of Viktor and Yuri? Had Yuuri made them watch him die?

 _How cruel_ , Yuuri thought. He felt numb. It felt too selfish to feel sorry for himself at that moment, so he closed off from the overflowing emotions and started to rationalize everything. Or he would have, if anything would have made any sense.

Whether it was a chance, an accident, a punishment, a sheer of luck, whatever, it did not matter. It was not the life Yuuri wanted, but he would take it. He looked at the lone apartment, it was all he had, for now. The cold rationalizing part of him made him deal with the rest of the day with clinical approach.

If he was going live there, he had to do a couple of things.

He started by changing the sheets of the bed, not being able handle the fact that someone had died on them. Then he washed away the pills in the sink, picked up the ones on the floor, and got rid of the rest of the alcohol. Yuuri put all of the clothes he could find into the washing machine. Some of them he threw away because they did not feel like something _he_ would own: a brown leather jacket, ripped light blue jeans and a weird colored jumper being some amongst them.

He could not bring himself to go to a convenience store. He did find something to eat from the cabinets so he really did not have a real reason to go. It was a good excuse to make himself feel better.

When he was done with the place it was four in the morning.

He fell to the freshly made bed and closed his eyes.

_Let this be a dream._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone is confused (wouldn't be surprised): Yuuri from 2017 found himself in the year of 2013. The Yuuri who had been living in that world was 24 years old, the same as the canon Yuuri in 2017. So not really a time travel, a dimension travel maybe.  
> I don't know, kinda wanted to try something like this. I've only written fluffy yoi fics so far, now it's time for some angst. Might turn fluffier in the future, though.
> 
>  
> 
> [✿](http://queenoffennoscandia.tumblr.com/)


	2. Chapter 2

Yuuri woke up from the dream that ended with the fraction of memory, him hitting against the metal railings. His eyes shot open, hands already clenching the bed sheets. When he realized where he was, he could not stop the tears.

But he was already tired of it, he would not cry anymore. Yuuri was stronger than that.

Finding himself in a familiar routine, Yuuri did his morning stretches with puffy eyes. He was sitting on the floor, and at the same time he went through the pages of Hasetsu, again. He was not sure whether it made him feel better or worse, but he could not look away. This was his family.

A part of him felt bad for not taking his morning run, but he decided that he got to have a cheating day. Here, Yuuri was not a skater anyway. What did that leave him with?

The rest of the day he did nothing, but when the next morning came he felt jittery. Mentally, he had not been in a slump for a whole year. He could not handle not doing anything, he was going to go crazy, or worse, start crying again. So, he did the only thing he could, he picked up his skates.

Maybe this world’s Yuuri had not completely given up on skating, as there was a freshly printed schedule of the open hours of the nearby skating ring. But the image of his dusty skates made Yuuri fear the worst.

Still, even if the other Yuuri had not been in his best shape, _he_ felt like this body was still the same it had been when he had won the silver from Grand Prix. And unlike the other Yuuri, he was alive. He did not let himself think about the missing bruises from the impact. Surely, one would be at least all red and blue from a car hitting him. But he had never felt better, and never felt worse. His body was strong and capable, mentally he was not so sure of his strength, but that was Yuuri’s weakness he had already learned to live with.

 

* * *

* * *

 

Yuuri started carefully, warming up on ice.

He did not feel stiff, his body worked just as he wanted it to, not missing a turn or a sudden change of pace. He landed perfectly on jumps, just as when he had trained with Viktor which felt like just a few days ago. The other man had been persisted on making Yuuri polish his technique where he was lacking. And when Viktor said jump, Yuuri asked how high.

Now, Yuuri glided on an empty ice. He felt good. It was like he had not missed a day of the practices. This body was his, the one he remembered. Whoever died on that bed where Yuuri woke up was gone.

His body could handle it, he could remember, and he just felt it. He wanted to skate. He wanted to skate more. This was not enough.

 _Why had you given up? How could you_ , Yuuri wanted to ask from the person who was not there anymore _. I know you did not have what I did, but how could you? I know how much it means to us._

 

* * *

* * *

 

“How dare you!” Yuuri shouted when he entered to his now-home. He threw his bag to the corner and felt the anger building up.

He stood in the middle of the room, clenching his fists.

“Why did you do this to yourself!” he kicked the table leg with full force.

It staggered but did not fall over, so Yuuri knocked the chairs over instead. He felt so angry. He could not remember the last time acting like this, so carefree of his body condition, not worrying of how he could harm his body. But the person owning this house had given up, he had fucking given up, and Yuuri felt so frustrated.

When he came back to his senses the place was a mess. Stuff on the counter had been showed to the floor, same with the shelves. Painting, which probably had a story behind it but meant nothing for Yuuri had been ripped from of the wall and had a hole in the middle of the canvas. Something made of glass was broken in the sink and ripped white pages where all over the place. Yuuri realized that he was still holding some of those scrunched paper pieces in his fists. He smoothened one of them open and realized that it must have been the book on his nightstand.

Yuuri took a support from the kitchen wall and leaning against it, he slid on the floor. Sitting there, he surveyed the wrecked room. He felt a little better, though he knew he was the one who later had to clean this up.

He did not cry.

 _I won’t anymore_ , he told himself.

 

* * *

* * *

 

There were three weeks left of the ‘vacation’.

Would he be fine? He did not even know what his job description was.

“What a mess”, Yuuri sighed.

If he would have been even a bit interested in it he would had made the effort to figure it out. He would have made plan, started to figure things out, act like an adult.

He was staring at the family picture taken in front of the gates of Hasetsu and eating his breakfast.

Yuuri knew that he was acting like he could not decide what exactly to do next, for now on...

But to be honest, he knew perfectly well what he wanted to do.

His eyes did not leave the picture when he sipped the miso soup. He lowered the dish back to the table and sighed.

He had to go to Hasetsu.

 

* * *

* * *

 

Sitting in the train was surprisingly therapeutic. It had been awhile since travelling long distance that way. He had gotten used to the planes, but now he had time. Yuuri did not want to rush. He needed time to adjust to the idea of arriving to a place that could have been his home, meeting the people who could have been his family. Plane would have probably been faster, and this way he had to change his transportation method midway, but it was nice. It felt good to leave the apartment behind.

Overall, he managed to enjoy the feeling of going somewhere. It felt like he could breath again.

In Fukuoka, Yuuri got into the train that would have a direct line to Hasetsu.

He sat nervously, now and then glancing out of the window. Soon he would see Yutopia again. It was not a holiday seasons so he was pretty sure they would have vacant rooms even without making a reservation beforehand.

For about an hour he had tried to come with a plan of how to act when he got there, but he got pretty certain that all the planning was ridiculous. They did not know him, they would not care about a guest – a stranger, even if he was a little awkward. It hurt to admit it, but it was true. He only hoped that they had even a little time to exchange a few words with him. That was all he could ask for.

When Yuuri had gone through the documents, he had hoped that there was a chance of him still being their kid. But after reading details about his biological mother and father dying in a car accident – ironically, and the relatives not being keen on taking care of their child, Yuuri had no reason to believe it. Though, they still shared the same last name. That little detail warmed his heart. No one could take the name ‘Katsuki’ from him. It was his, his to keep, even if it would be the last connection he had with the family he once knew.

Yuuri was starting to feel gloomy.

Vicchan, he, the parents…

_It's always the fucking cars._

It was almost like a bad joke.

 

* * *

* * *

 

Yuuri met his mother, or the person who looked a lot like her, at the entrance.

“Welcome!” Katsuki Hiroko said with a bright smile on her face.

Yuuri just stood there with his luggage, half through the door, in daze.

‘I’m home,’ he wanted to say.

But he could not, so he tightened his lips and swallowed the words down.

“Thank you for having me,” he said instead with a forced smile, though there was true warmth in it.

This person was so alike with his mother, of course, being in the same room would mean something for him, it would make him feel something.

“I hope you have free rooms?” he said with a voice he hoped sounded collected.

She beamed, “We do! You have a good sense of coming this time of year! We have plenty of room and you won’t feel crowded with other guests.” Then she walked to him and started to help with his bag, “Come on, let’s get you inside. It’s freezing outside! The snow just keeps coming, can you believe it?” She did not wait him to answer, Yuuri did not even try to, knowing her talking habit. “How long are you planning on staying? As I said, there should not be a problem in getting you a room.”

“Um,” Yuuri mutters, “Maybe a week.” He had not made any strict plans. He just had to get to Hasetsu. He also had time and it did not seem like this world’s original Yuuri was having any money troubles.

Actually, the bank account made him wonder if the other had ever done anything for himself for years. Not that he himself had ever been someone who spent much money on himself. Ice Skating had taken him to places, it had given him the work he had needed and the relaxation he had wanted, along with his home – Hasetsu.

“Excellent! Let’s go to the front desk and I’m going to book you in.” She left the bag lean against the wooden desk as she hurried behind it. “Your name?”

Yuuri let the rest of his luggage down.

“Katsuki Yuuri,” he answered quietly while playing with the hem of his winter coat.

“Oh.” Katsuki Hiroko blinked. ”Oh, look at that. We have the same last name! My name is Hiroko, Katsuki Hiroko,” she said smiling. “Katsuki Yuuri, huh?” she offered the paper to Yuuri who needed to write his information down.

Maybe she was being a little nosy. She stared at Yuuri filling the form. Yuuri struggled on keeping him hand from shaking. Partly it was because of being scrutinizing this particular person and partly because he was trying hard to write the correct information of the life he owned now.

“And it’s written with the same Kanjis, too,” Hiroko Katsuki said thoughtfully. She looked like she was thinking something. She raised her eyes from the paper and looked at Yuuri. “Do you have relatives in Hasetsu?”

Yuuri felt taken aback. _She was just being curious, as she always were_ , he calmed himself down.

“Not _here_ , I don’t think.” He had not bothered to look very far from the relatives of the other Yuuri. He had not cared. “How’s so?”

“Hasetsu isn’t the most popular tourist attraction these days, to be honest,” she hummed. “I thought that it would make sense if you had some relation to the area. But if that’s not it, it’s an interesting coincidence,” she smiled warmly.

“Yeah,” Yuuri offered a small smile of his own, “coincidence.” His voice felt strained, and unfamiliar.

She seemed to notice that something was off.

“Is everything alright?” she asked in a motherly fashion, which made Yuuri want to pull her close or run off.

All Yuuri could think was, _of course she did. She always noticed._

He could feel the panic rising. Yuuri needed more space.

“I’m sorry, but could you show me my room,” he said awkwardly. He hoped he did not come off rude.

“Oh!” She looked like she had forgotten for a moment that he was a guest. “Of course! Katsuki-san, please follow me,” she said cheerfully, though her eyes seemed more observant than before.

The last name sounded strange coming out of her mouth. It was like he was a stranger. Yuuri wanted to shout. He wanted to scream to someone, but he could not blame her. She had never met him. They _were_ strangers.

When Yuuri followed her along the corridor, familiar to the one he had walked through countless times, he stared at her back. Yuuri was thinking about how he had been acting stranger ever since he had woken to this world. He would have to get his act together. There was no time to have a break down. He doubted that the owners of the resort would be too understanding if they found the room he was staying at wrecked.

Well, he had brushed his earlier burst of anger at the apartment as something that would not be repeated. He had gotten it all out, and now he was fine.

He was…fine.

He snapped out of his thoughts when she said, “Here we are.” She slid the wooden door open and let Yuuri in. “You’re in luck. This is one of the rooms we renovated just last summer! It’s in an excellent condition.”

Yuuri nodded politely.

 _Right_ , he remembered the small renovation project his family had gone through with Yutopia, too. Though, he was not completely sure if it had been on the summer of 2012. It was weird, how the time line of his world seemed so very similar with this one, but it did have its deviance. The biggest difference so far seemed to be him.

“Do you have everything you need?” she asked. “Our kitchen is open, so if you want something, just come to the dining area. And if there’s anything else on your mind don’t hold yourself back. Okay?”

“Yes, thank you,” Yuuri said and gave a small bow. It felt strange to make himself step back from the familiarity he used to have between him and his mother.

“Well then…” she nodded and exited the room.

Yuuri was left standing in there alone, but then he got an idea.    

He hurried after his mother’s look-alike who fortunately had not gotten too far.

“Actually!” he said to get her attention.

She stopped walking and turned to him with an encouraging expression. “Yes?”

“Is there an ice skating ring nearby?” he asked. He had to. It would be weird if he knew Ice Castle on his own.

She smiled “Well yes! This wonderful young couple Yuuko and Takashi are managing it. Ice Castle. Should I have someone show you the way?” she explained.

Yuuko and Takashi… It was 2013 so the triplets should have already been born. Somehow, it made him feel glad.

“No thank you. I think I’ll find it myself. Just tell me which direction to go to and I’ll be fine. Thank you for offering though. You’re kind,” Yuuri said somehow feeling embarrassment of the last sentence he had spoken.

She looked at him strangely attentively, but finally said with a tilted head. “Okay then, if you say so.” She looked a little amused. She looked like his mother.

 

* * *

* * *

 

When he crossed the bridge, the realization came of how strange it was, going to the skating ring alone. There would be no Viktor and Yurio. Of course, there had been many years like that before, him skating alone. This time though, he knew what he could have had and Yuuri was already missing it.

It happened suddenly. Yuuri frozed in the middle of the bridge.

It hit him, this was where he had died.

He felt his shoulder tensing, and sweat gathering on his forehead.

Yuuri looked at the road, the railings…and he knew that the sharp pain that had come as fast as it had gone had been real. He felt the shiver down his spine, as he forced his legs to move. When he finally succeeded, he run.

He felt breathless when he finally stopped in front of Ice Castle. Yuuri was disappointed at himself. His reaction had been over the top. What an emotional wreck, he had only –

Died.

Right, maybe it was not that little thing. Maybe he was allowed to freak out a little every now and then. These thoughts were what he had as he climbed the stairs which lead to the building.

It felt like a second nature for him to be there. He knew even every single cleaning closet in the place, that familiar he was with Ice Castle. He knew where Yuuko hid her secret snack stash, which was the bench one should never sit because no one ever bothered to fix its leg, and at what time of a day the skating rink was most likely empty.

As Yuuri had guessed, there was not even a single voice carrying in the corridor. He walked to the desk where Yuuko usually could be found.

“Excuse me?” he said with a loud voice which echoed in the room.

“Yes, yes,” a voice called back from the back room, “Just a moment!”

Soon after, Yuuko walked to him. She looked slightly younger than he was used to, but still the same.  She was not a kid anymore. In its way, four years was not that long of a time in some point of view. Yuuko already had the triplets, though they still were not running around the Ice Castle like they owned the place.

“Is the rink free?”

“Yes, actually it is. It has been booked from two to four. But nobody’s using it now.” She leaned to the counter with her both hands.

“I’d just like to flex my muscles a bit. I get antsy if I can’t skate,” he said, knowing that in some weird way she would understand.

Yuuko smiled crookedly, “Sure.”

“Thank you,” Yuuri said.

It was weird. He felt at ease. The panicking feeling, he had felt with his mother, had disappeared. This felt like being with his friend. It was a little funny being the older one of them though. Yuuri could not help the smile slipping on to his face.

“You need to rent the skates?” Yuuko asked, making already her way to the racks where the skates were kept.

“No, it’s alright,” Yuuri said with a shy smile and showed her the sport bag he was carrying. “I got my own with me.”

“Oh, is that so.” Yuuko seemed somewhat curious of the bag. Knowing her, she was probably speculating what kinds of he owned. She was too curious for her own good.

“Er,” Yuuri said, biting the laughter back. “Can I go right away, or?”

“Yeah!” Yuuko said fast. “The changing rooms are at your left. The first door.”

“Thanks,” Yuuri smiled. He already knew the way.

“Have fun!” she called after him with a cheerful voice

 

* * *

* * *

 

When he sat in the changing room, putting his skates on, the realization came to him out of nowhere.

He missed Viktor.

Yuuri stared at his untied skates on his feet and felt the emptiness wash over him. He wished the other was there, with him, like he was supposed to. He wanted to talk to him, look into those blue eyes and feel the warmth of being in each other’s arms.

Yuuri brought his hands over his face and leaned to them, hiding himself, wanting to erase himself from this place and return to home. He needed his Viktor.

Viktor on that day would be…he would be, Yuuri narrowed his eyes thinking. If the timeline was not being capricious, Viktor would be the same age as Yuuri, 24 years old. Wait, technically, would not that make him older than Viktor. His birthday was almost a month earlier than Viktor’s after all.

That blew Yuuri’s mind.

He removed his hands from his face and gaped. The feeling of shock made the sadness disappear for a moment. It was much easier to think about his family and childhood friends being a little younger, as he had known them at those ages. But Viktor on the other hand, Yuuri had never even imagined of getting to know him when the other was 24. Well, maybe he had dreamed of it, but still. It would had been like such a bizarre idea. He had been Yuuri’s hero, someone to admire, almost an unfair fantasy of a celebrity.

But now Yuuri knew Viktor. Never again could he look him as a something so distant.

And to think that they would be the same age…the same, it would change the whole dynamic of the relationship. Viktor was supposed to be the experienced one. He had already gone through so much even before the two of them met.

This world’s Viktor was only partially the person he had learned to care for. A lot changes in a four-year period. Conflicting desires of wanting to meet the other and not wanting to meet him confused Yuuri. He was not thinking of having any kind of relationship with Viktor. Not as a friend, not as a lover, not as a coach…but he wished to even see the other in flesh, maybe shake hands and feel that he was real. It was almost like it would make this world a worth living in, if Viktor Nikiforov was alive.

Standing up, he made his way to the ice. Next to the rink stood Yuuko. She smiled at him.

Her expression was slightly sheepish, only _slightly_ though. “Do you mind if I watch? It’s been a really quiet morning,” she explained.

Yuuri stared at the person who was shockingly alike with the friend he knew.

“I mean, you’re wearing figure skating skates. I figured you’re somewhat used to people watching you skate. Am I wrong?” She looked like she was ready to leave anytime he asked.

Yuuri smiled softly and said, “No, you’re correct.” He removed the blade covers, entered the skating rink and turned to Yuuko. “Keep your eyes on me, okay?”

Yuuko’s cheeks looked a little red and her eyes were shining. Excited, she nodded rapidly and clapped her hands.

_I’m going to show you what my love was like._

He stopped in the middle of the rink, tilted his head down and closed his eyes. Platinum hair flashing in his memory he breathed out.

_Our love._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter two and Yuuri's extempore visit to Hasetsu. I bet many saw that coming.  
> Thank you for reading. And for the kudos and comments! I do enjoy reading them.  
> I'm glad that there were people who found the story interesting. I've always been drawn to time travel -type of fics, so it's interesting to write one for change. Though, I kind of realized that as the whole idea is 'out of this world', I want to make some effort to write somehow realistical story....in its way (we're still talking about yoi au fanfiction after all). That's why the most of the narration happens in Yuuri's head instead of as a dialogue. He's a bit of an emotional mess, let's give him some time.


	3. Chapter 3

The last notes of the phantom music disappeared from his head.

Yuuri finished the routine, he lifted his hand, reaching for the invisible.

His breathing was harsh as he snapped out of the trans of the skating routine. He blinked and remembered that he was not there alone. Yuuri found Yuuko on the side, her eyes glued on him. Without his glasses, he could not really tell how she was reacting.

Maybe she will not see anything special in it. Maybe she will tell him that it was a pretty performance, but nothing more. Maybe she tells him that he should be a professional. Maybe he will let out a dry laugh, and say: _‘yeah – perhaps in another life.’_

Yuuri skated to her, with a somber smile.

“Hi,” he said, not knowing what else to say.

She held her phone close to her chest.

“Um,” she said, but let the next words hanging, “That was…“

Her eyes were sharp, eyebrows in one line, there was a small frown on her lips. Yuuri knew that look, it was Yuuko after all. He just was not sure why his friend was looking at him like that.

“Why are you making that face?” Yuuri asked and tried to form an easy-going smile. Her face showed the sadness that he felt.

“I don’t know why it feels so bittersweet,” she said, bit her lips and looked down. “Sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” She shook her head. “It was beautiful. It was perfect.”

It came back to him, when he had showed her the Viktor’s routine he had learned by himself. It had drawn a brilliant smile on to her face. She had almost cried, but she had been so happy and glad for him.

Now, her eyes were almost watery, but everything was different.

Yuuri felt shocked.

Bittersweet? Was that how it had looked.

He had skated his free program, Yuuri on ice. It was not supposed to be something painful, but Yuuko’s expression said enough. It was then when Yuuri realized that nothing in it felt light anymore. This routine was about love, and as she had said, it did not feel like it had been before, not anymore.

Now it was just bittersweet.

The phantom music that he had heard in his head suddenly felt dull. The purpose to skate this program did not exist.

There was no recorded version of the musical piece. It did not exist, and it probably never would. Even if he would ask the same person to make a song, there is no way it would be the same song. You cannot recreate an identical inspiration. Maybe there could be a ghost of that familiar melody but it cannot exist as an identical piece. Yuuri was the only one who knew the melody, the feeling, the tempo, the life that had been breathed into that music.

Yuuri did not play piano, and to be honest, even if he could he was not sure if he would even want to bring that music back to anyone.

It was _his_.

No one was missing it, no one could have it. And it would be selfish to claim something so beautiful as something he alone had created. It was his song, but had he made it? – No.  

He sighed, and brushed his hair back. “I guess that’s what’s left of it,” he said with a bitter smile.

Yuuko looked uncertainly into his eyes. Yuuri had to remind himself that she was not talking to someone she had known since she was a kid. A small part of him let him think that maybe she was not acting completely like she would usually do with strangers. There was clearly something off in the way she acted, like he had caught her off guard.

“It really was beautiful,” she repeated.

Yuuri held back the tears that had already started to form in his eyes. He took a breath in. “But painful?”

Yuuko bit her lips. “Painful,” she agreed.

“Damn it,” Yuuri cursed.

It hurt. Maybe he should just walk away from it all, but he wanted to skate. Perhaps it was not the only thing he could do, but could he be even half as happy in any other way? There had been countless times he had thought of quitting, but it had never felt this empty before. If he could not have skating what exactly did he have?

“What is it called?”

“Hmm?” Yuuri tilted his head absent-mindedly.

“What do you call it, the routine?” Yuuko clarified.

Yuuri fixed his eyes to his feet, as he still stood on ice. Then he hummed, ”Once it had a name, but I don’t know if it feels right anymore. You can call it whatever you want.” Suddenly, the idea of even saying the name of the music piece felt silly, especially as his own name was in it.

”That’s a really vague answer.”

There was something familiar in the way Yuuko complained. It made Yuuri want to smile, but he was not sure if it reached to show in his face.

“It’s yours?”

Her question surprised him.

“What?” he said, startled.

“The program, it’s not something you copied, right?”

“No, I mean, yes. It was made for me, how did you…?”

“I just got the feeling,” she leaned a little closer.

Suddenly he felt really exposed. He must have looked really obvious. Feeling a little embarrassed, he admitted, “It was a gift, kind of.”

“What is it about?” Yuuko asked instead of asking from who it was from, which was what Yuuri had been expecting.

He paused. “About?”

Yuuko nodded encouragingly. “There’s a story behind everything, right?”

“Love,” he finally said after a pause. “Isn’t it always about love?” he said with a sad face.

“What is?”

“Everything, Yu-chan. Everything.“

Then he pushed himself back to the ice once again. He should do at least couple of laps before going back to Yutopia.

He did not even notice how the familiar nickname had slipped out, not how Yuuko’s mouth gaped slightly and how her eyebrows furrowed.

 

* * *

* * *

 

He stared at his skates as he removed them. They were not nearly as worn out as his own pair that he was familiar with. They might not have been also as expensive, but they were good quality and professional ones. He was glad that he had them. He would have hated to borrow or rent skates. It would have taken time to find a good pair before leaving Tokyo.

Yuuri swiped his hand over the black and smooth material.

“Can I ask your name?”

He looked over his shoulder so that she could see Yuuko.

“Yuuri.”

He could not imagine any harm in telling it.

Yuuko did not offer her hand but she stood next to him for a moment before saying, “It was good to meet you.” Her voice sounded sincere.

“It was,” Yuuri said.

It really was.

 

* * *

* * *

 

Yuuri had never been an angry person. Sure, the crippling fear of failure was something he had gotten accustomed to. It was only on rare moments that he let the aggression shine through, and Yuuri knew that he was not the kind of person who wants the anger to poison his mind. He had always been so sure of it, but the emotional turmoil he was going through was going against his beliefs.

Yuuri had gotten out of the open bath, and now he was walking through the corridor of Yutopia.

“You look on edge.”

Yuuri recognized Mari’s voice right away. She was leaning on the door frame. There was an unlighted cigarette between her fingers. She had been probably on her way to the backyard, only to find an unfamiliar guest on her way out.

Her voice was smooth and low as always, though there was a tone on worry in her voice, if Yuuri was not hearing wrong. But she was not worried about her brother. He was not her brother. They were strangers, Yuuri tried to remind himself of it.

“Are you bothered by something?” Mari said, when he realized that he was not going to give her an answer.

When he glanced to his left to avoid her eyes, he saw his own reflection from a window. Everything in his expression looked unfamiliar. He looked furious, or more likely someone who could lash out anytime if you said a one wrong word. Yuuri teared his eyes away.

“Hey,” she said softly, “If something really is wrong, you can tell us. Your room is fine at least, I hope?”

It was incredible how someone can make you break, just by talking to you, and they don’t even mean to make it happen. But it does.

And once again, you have to pull yourself together and make yourself remember why it was not okay to fall into pieces, why it felt so good to be productive and keep yourself going on. But still, it was hard, and you cannot even blame those who made you feel that way. They do not get it, and he would not want to explain.

He stood in front of these people who looks like family and they welcome him warmly in. But when Yuuri looked them in the eyes, he could tell.

They did not know him.

That was how she was looking at him. Yuuri knew that Mari was good at reading people, better than many usually guessed. It was a part of his sister that he loved and feared. Once again, Yuuri found himself afraid. Fear had always trumped anger in him.

“Yeah,” he said weakly. “The room is great. I love it.”

His sister always knew how to handle him, when to leave him alone and when to remind him that she was there whenever he needed her. That right to admit his weak moments to her had been ripped away from him.

He lifted his gaze to meet her eyes. “Your mother has been really kind to me.”

And right away Yuuri realized that he was not supposed to know that she was the daughter of the people who owned the onsen. Yuuri winced, but Mari did not seem too bothered about it. Maybe it could go as a lucky guess.

“You’re that Katsuki, am I right?” She was blunt as always with her choice of words.

Yuuri stared at her, not knowing what to say. He nodded.

“Mom mentioned you,” her mouth twitched. “I guess some similarities could be seen, but you denied of being from here.” She hummed, “Well, you can probably see anything you want to if you look enough.”

Mari kept observing Yuuri’s face without even trying to hide it. On her other hand, she played with a matchbox. Mari owned a lighter but Yuuri knew that for some reason she sometimes liked to use matches when she was at Yutopia. She had told him that there was something calming about using them when Yuuri had asked. He had not really understood what she meant by that.

Yuuri was snapped out of his thoughts.

“Excuse me?” he said.

“Just talking about how mom wondered if you were maybe a relative. She is easy in pulling people in. Try not to feel to smothered.” Her lips twitched.

“You are no far the only Katsukis in Japan,” Yuuri pointed out. He had not planned sounding so defensive.

“No, we aren’t,” she sounded amused, “but still it is a funny coincident.”

He found himself making a weak argument, “I don’t see how that surname is even relevant. Maybe I saw the name in your homepage, and that’s just one of the reason this place got my attention. It is not a funny coincident, it’s just a coincident.”

“So the name does have something to do with your choice?”

Yuuri felt the flush creep up his neck. He wanted nothing more than cover his ears that he knew would be flaming red soon enough.

“It’s got nothing to do with it!” he said louder than he had supposed to.

“Wow, calm down boy.” Something in her expression had changed. Yuuri realized that she had been just joking with him, and now he had made it clear that she had hit closer to home than she could have even imagine.

 _Fuck_ , she had just been messing with him, like Mari sometimes did when she tried to lighten the mood. And he had to be that much of an emotional mess that he practically let her see something that could have been easily avoided.

“I-“ Yuuri’s voice stuttered. “Sorry I shouted,” he said weakly. “I’m sorry, that was completely unnecessary. I don’t know what came to me.” Yuuri’s shoulders slumped.

He heard Mari sigh.

“Come here,” she said. “You clearly need to eat something.”

Yuuri ended up following her into the kitchen. He sat down when she told him to, as she busied herself in front of the kitchen counter. A familiar dish was placed in front of him. Not his favorite, but one that he still knew very well from their menu. It was Mari’s favorite, tempura.

He ate in silence as she sat on the other side of the table and observed him. It was the look he had seen on her face when he had seen her feeding a neighbor Nakajima’s bobtail cat when she had been thirteen years old.

“It’s good,” he murmured.

Mari grinned slightly. She looked satisfied as she leaned back on her chair.

When he finished, he thanked for the meal with a content sigh. He felt like the tension had left from his shoulders.

“You want another serving?”

Yuuri shook his head, “I better not. I gain weigh easily.”

Mari looked surprised. “Is that so? You look like you’re in a pretty fit shape though.”

“I exercise well,” he said simply.

She said no more and started to gather the dirty dishes when their – her father walked into the room. He seemed a little surprised when he noticed that Mari had company. He glanced at Yuuri’s clothes and guessed, “A guest?”

Yuuri was surprised by how Mari decided to address him.

“Yuuri here was having a bit of a shitty day,” she commented. Which in Yuuri’s opinion was an understatement of the century.

But the point was that she was not calling him by the surname. Well, it must be weird to call someone with your own name, anyway. And maybe they had gotten somehow past the formalities, in Mari’s standard at least. She was pretty quick to pass the courtesies. Whatever the meaning was, Yuuri was thankful.

Her father seemed to accept the explanation and decided to offer them tea. As Katsuki Toshiya heated the water and took out the teacups from the cabinets, he talked about the new café that Yuuri remembered had been closed already for two years. Yuuri stayed quiet and let the familiar voices lull himself into the sense of security.

“We’re having tea?” Katsuki Hiroko said with a smile when she peaked into the kitchen.

And suddenly Yuuri sat at the small kitchen table with these people that had been his family. The guest always dined in the public area. It made him feel warm that they allowed him to be there. More than ever, he felt the unconditional love towards this family. Maybe they were careful around him, but they were just the same as people.

He wondered whether it was like that with everyone. If the people were still even slightly the same as he remembered them, it would mean the world to him.

Yuuri’s eyes strayed to his right hand, and that was where they stopped. He lifted his hand from where it had been resting on the table.

The ring.

He did not have the ring.

Yuuri felt silly for being so shocked. Of course he did not have it anymore. Still, it did not help the absent weight on his ring finger. He curled his fingers into a fist and forced himself to look away.

_I wonder if that person is still the same?_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quality family time with the Katsukis.
> 
> Just a fast update (that I should probably edit properly). I had something that I was supposed to put into the notes, but clearly I forgot. Might add something later on. 
> 
> Thank you for the comments and all, by the way. There are some really good remarks that I actually feel the need to answer because it would clear some things up for everyone regarding the story. I try to take my time and do just that later on.


	4. Chapter 4

Yuuri felt his pulse echoing around him. Disoriented combination of colors and shapes flashed in front of his eyes and made him feel nauseous. There was no ground, no sky, there were no walls. And it was cold and he was alone in the middle of all this mess. The world pulsed along his own heart, reminding that he was still alive, not letting him forget.

It was just a bad dream. It was just a bad dream.

_“Yuuri.”_

See, someone was calling him.

_“Yuuri.”_

Someone was already waking him up.

_“Yuuri.”_

It all was a bad dream.

When Yuuri heard someone say his name the first thought had been: _‘Viktor’_.

Because it was always Viktor – always close, always near, always there. And he was there for Viktor. Because Viktor tended to have those sad eyes when he thought no-one was looking. So Yuuri had to be there and pull him out of those bad thoughts. And now Viktor was pulling Yuuri out of this dream. Of course, Viktor would not leave him there.

Yuuri opened his eyes, but instead of seeing those familiar blue eyes he had expected to see, there was his mother. She was hovering over him. He must have fallen asleep on the floor.

_Wait, when did I come back to Yutopia? That’s stranger. I wonder where Viktor is, and Makkachin? The dog must be sleeping in Yuuri’s room, and Viktor might be taking a bath. That sounds right._

“Mom?” he said as he tried to open his eyes fully.

“Katsuki-kun?”

 

_Ah._

 

Yuuri stared at the gentle looking face who stared at him. She looked worried.

 

_Oh, I see._

 

He could not look away, even after the realization had hit him.

“Katsuki-kun?” Katsuki Hiroko repeated, and suddenly her hand was touching Yuuri’s cheek.

Yuuri stopped breathing for a second, for that one silly moment he wondered if this was how he was going to die, by just stopping breathing. He focused to the feeling of Katsuki Hiroko’s warm hand against his numb skin.

“Is something wrong? Your face is awfully pale. You look like death, dear.”

He swallowed loudly, afraid to move. It would not have made much effort to part his lips and say, _‘I’m fine.’_   It would not have been hard at all. But his lips refused to form those words, so he stayed quiet and instead looked finally away.

His eyes fell on the blanket that had been laid over him. He indeed was lying on a tatami mat.

Yuuri had a faint memory of moving to the main hall to have a drink with everyone.

_“Just a sip or two,” Katsuki Toshiya had said and lifted the bottle on the table._

_Yuuri had felt his lips twitching from the amusement._

_“Are you sure this one is old enough? He got such a baby face,” Katsuki Mari had poked Yuuri’s cheek._

_Yuuri knew that he no one really thought he looked like a kid at the age of 24, but his Mari had always had the habit of not seeing him anything more than a kid brother._

_“Mari-san,” he had complained, not really feeling offended. He tried to keep the fondness from his voice._

_Katsuki Hiroko had offered each a cup and shuffled next to her husband, “Now, now, behave.” Then she had placed a bowl of snacks in between Yuuri and Mari. “Be nice and share.”_

_Mari had laughed vibrantly when her eyes met with Yuuri who had raised his eyebrows._

_“Don’t mind her. In her eyes, anyone under 40 is a kid.” Then she popped a peanut from the bowl and grinned._

“I shouldn’t drink,” Yuuri said with a grouchy voice.

All he drank the last night was a couple cups of sake so it was not like he was hungover or anything. Still, he was pretty sure that he could have managed without that little he had drunk. He might as well had said something stupid. Something that might have made these people look at him like out of his mind, or annoying…or even more pitiful than he already seemed.

“Do you feel nauseous, should I get you something?” she worried.

Yuuri sat up faster than he should have, and everything went black for a second. He closed his eyes and opened them again when he felt like he would not fall over if he attempted to get up. It was not nausea, he was just tired, and his back hurt. He must have been dead tired for falling asleep on the floor. His body was definitely not appreciating that particular sleeping position.

“Katsuki-kun?”

_He hated it._

Yuuri hated the way she called him.

“I just need to take a moment,” he said and offered a smile. He hoped it did not look forced.

Hiroko stared at him with sharp eyes, and when Yuuri’s eyes met hers something in his smile must have changed as her eyes softened.

“I wish you didn't go and faint anytime soon.”

“Not good for the business if guests keep dropping like flies,” Yuuri said with a small smile.

“That kind of self-deprecating humor does not suit you, Katsuki-kun,” she scolded.

“I know, it was a bad joke anyway,” Yuuri said quietly. Then he brushed hair out of his face and realized that he was not wearing his glasses. No wonder everything looked so fuzzy, it was not just the alcohol. “And please, just ‘Yuuri’ is fine. It must be strange to keep calling me by your own name.”

Yuuri narrowed his eyes, trying to navigate the glasses. They were laid neatly just next to him on the floor. Yuuri pushed the glasses up to his nose. The features of the familiar face sharpened when he looked up.

Hiroko tilted his head and smiled, “You told us that last night, but I wasn’t sure if it was just for last night. You seemed a little disoriented.”

Yuuri tried to remember how exactly had the night gone. Nothing special came to his mind. Well, except that it had felt like being home. He was so glad he was there.

“Uh, no, it’s…’Yuuri’ is good. I don’t mind,” he said.

“Then,” Hiroko nodded, “Yuuri-kun.”

Yuuri smiled. It was close enough. He could live with that.

“And you can call me Hiroko. I’m sure Toshiya and Mari agrees, right? It’s a little silly to keep calling everyone ‘Katsuki’ ‘Katsuki’ ‘Katsuki’.” She shook her head.

“Hiroko-san,” Yuuri said. The name felt weird coming out of his mouth.

She smiled, “Now then, how about some breakfast? I have some freshly made rice waiting, Yuuri-kun.”

“Sounds perfect,” he admitted.

“Go wash your face first. I was not kidding when I said that you looked like a mess,” she laughed brightly.

He could not wish for more, Yuuri thought, as he followed the familiar back to the next room, and then parted the way to get into his rented room.

He cracked the window open slightly, just enough to let the wind mess his hair.

The scenery was familiar, the air felt the same.

 A passing thought came to him, _I wonder where Vicchan is?_

 

* * *

* * *

 

It had been four days of Yuuri trying to dance around Yutopia and Katsuki family, trying to decide where the lines were.

Then, Yuuri got a call.

Someone wanting to talk to him in this world was stranger itself. What was even stranger, was that it had not come to his own phone. Well, maybe it would not have any sense that he had gotten it through his phone as he had abandoned it to the bottom of his bag as soon as he had arrived. It had stayed on silent mode the whole time. So, no, it was not the strangest thing that someone had tried to contact him through the inn. He just had no idea that anyone was that desperate to get hold of him to do so.

He had been nervous when Hiroko had knocked the door or his room, telling him that someone was asking for Katsuki Yuuri on the phone.

“Someone called Moriyama-san is asking for you. Do you want to take the call, Yuuri-kun?”

“Me?” he had asked confused.

“Yes. Is he someone you know? The phone is waiting on the front desk. You want answer or should I encourage him to try again some other time?”

“I can’t recall any Moriyama-san,” Yuuri confessed, but he also ended up standing up.

Hiroko waited Yuuri to enter the hallway before starting to walk.

“It might be something important. He was pretty determined to talk with you.”

“Maybe someone from work,” Yuuri said thoughtfully. He had no desire to talk anymore to ‘his’ coworkers.

“Are you sure you don’t know him then?”

“Er, there has been many changed for me in my job lately.”

“Ah, is that so?” Hiroko asked politely.

“Yes,” Yuuri answered. He kept a timid expression upon his face, but he could already feel the nerves starting to bother him. It was hateful to end up sudden situations such as this. Who could this Moriyama be?

When they arrived to the lobby, Hiroko handed Yuuri the familiar looking white landline phone. Yuuri offered a small smile before speaking up.

“Hello, this is Katsuki Yuuri speaking.”

 _“Ah, Katsuki-kun?”_ The voice coming out of the phone belonged to an elder sounding man, it was low and hoarse.  

“Yes, this is him,” he repeated. It almost sounded like this person knew him. He could only hope that it was not his landlord, telling that his apartment was burning to the ground. Yuuri hoped he had an insurance. “May I ask who is this?”

_“Moriyama Kensuke.”_

Which said absolutely nothing.

“Do I know you?” Yuuri could not help asking bluntly.

_“Oh, we haven’t met. I’ve known about you for some time, though. Did not really expect to be calling you, but I have to admit, this all has been kind of an unexpected turn. Not unpleasant one, but unexpected, surely.”_

Yuuri frowned.

“Excuse me, I’m not quite sure what you mean by that.”

_“I’m going to be frank here.”_

Yuuri just decided to listen, his heart was hammering for now reason. He glanced at Hiroko who smiled encouragingly before leaving the lobby. Yuuri really did not want to deal with house fire right now.

_“I didn’t know you skated anymore.”_

Well – Yuuri had to admit that this was not what he had expected, either.

“Um, what?” he said after a long lengthening pause.

_“Well, I mean, I wouldn’t have been surprised that you still skated, but the fact that you actually skate like that. It’s surprising. After all, I don’t think you have been competing for years.”_

“I’m confused,” Yuuri confessed. “What are you talking about, Moriyama-san.”

What Yuuri had gathered, there was no skating for him in this world. That was the point. That was one of the many things that had made him so upset. Was this old man messing with him?

“How would you have any idea how I skate. Hearing something like this from a completely stranger – you have to understand my confusion,” he tried to stay polite while rubbing his temple. Should he just hang up? _Could_ he just hang up?

_“I’m talking about the video.”_

Yuuri opened his mouth…and closed it, furrowed his eyebrows, narrowed his eyes, and tried to think what to response. The first thing that came to him was the Viktor’s routine that had gone viral, but that could not be right.

_“You know, Japan’s skating circles are really tight?”_

Yuuri tried to find his words. He could not.

_“One would think that everyone would be aware if Japan had some skater whose level was as high as yours, well, at least based on that routine. So, image everyone’s surprise when that little video of yours started to go around.”_

Yuuri’s brain started to work. His eyes were fixed on a computer was placed. He put the phone between his ear and shoulder while starting to log in. Yuuri searched the room with his eyes before starting to type with the keyboard. It would be awkward to explain anyone why he was messing with their computer. Luckily, the password was familiar and soon he was logged in. He opened Google but paused to think what exactly was what he was looking for.

 _“There has been some confusion about who the skater was, but it was you, wasn’t it? It has been some time, but I think I recognized you. It must have been you. I remember you from the juniors. I have an excellent memorym,”_ the old man kept talking.

Yuuri went on YouTube and typed the familiar channel in the search bar.

“Yuu-chan,” Yuuri muttered under his breath.

Could it be that his life was completely destined to be orchestrated unintentionally by Nishigoris. He had to remember whose mother she was. After her becoming mother it was easy to forget where the enthusiastic skating fanaticism in her family has come from, where Yuuri had learned to love skating. Also, he had been very familiar with the use and the power of Yuuko’s YouTube channel.

Yuuri was too baffled to even be mad. He was so glad that he knew this side of Yuuko. He could say ‘it’s just like her’. It is her.  

“I- why do you think it is me?” Yuuri backtracked, because it sounded too still silly in his head. And he was no one in this world anyway.

_“It was named ‘Yuuri skates a stunning solo’…and a few hearts lined after it. I have to admit, this might sound a little farfetched, but it is one of my interest to follow the promising youth of our country’s figure skating community. You were one of those I had my bet on.”_

Yeah, that might sound like Yuuko. Yuuri finally got to the ‘videos’ page. And there it was. Yuuri grimaced. It has a fair number of views. Nothing compared to 'stammi vicino', but if Moriyama was speaking the truth, in just Japan's skale it was something. Katsuki Yuuri had no audience abroad here, but it seems Japanese found some entertainment from it.

“And what if it was me?” he finally said.

 _“So I was correct.”_ It was not even a question anymore.

“Who are you exactly?” Yuuri’s hovered the mouse over the video link. This was not something that was supposed to be seen. Was it weird that it made him feel somehow exposed?

_“Just a figure skating enthusiastic who thinks Japan’s current placings in international competitions are a shame. And it would be even bigger shame if, by chance, there would be possibility to have a high-ranking skater who hasn’t been put to the best possible use.”_

“What are you trying to say?” Yuuri swallowed.

_“What I’m saying, Katsuki-kun, is that I would like to fix that error.”_

“You must be joking,” Yuuri leaned to the table, needing support from something.

_“I’m not. Japan hasn’t been on that podium for years. We need someone to take us there, but it hadn’t been likely that there was anyone in the close future to do so. I was sure, until I saw you. I want to see you skate. It was a damn good show, but it was still on a video. I need to see if you can actually make it happen. It’s obvious that you haven’t been just loitering around. Your technique isn’t something you can fake for a one routine, and boy, you can jump, though I never thought from the videos recorded from your old routines that it was your strong point.”_

Yuuri tried to get his head around what the man was saying. “You want to see me skate, then what?”

 _“I have money, too much of it. Before I wasn’t really in the place to sponsor anyone. Now I’m retired. Wouldn’t it be fair to let the old man have his hobbies?”_ he laughed.

Yuuri could not believe this. He could not allow himself to believe it.

_“It’s a crime that there is a figure skater of your level not competing. I have no idea how you have gotten so far, it simply does not make sense, it’s ridiculous, but you might as well do something with it. Now there just needs to be someone to push you on that ice.”_

“And that’s going to be you?” Yuuri asked doubtfully

_“And that’s going to be me.”_

“You actually want to make this happen?”

_“I want to. But you have to show me that you can do it. This seems a little foolish for even me at the moment, but wouldn’t this make a great story for the press if it could be pulled of? If it’s not going to work, we’ll walk away. And if this is really some kind of ridiculous miracle, and you actually can do that what I just saw, we need to make it happen again, and again, and again.”_

And Yuuri wanted. He wanted to skate again. He yearned to feel the rush of skating.

With Viktor, it had only been the beginning. He had just gotten the taste of the success. And he loved to win, he was competitive, no joke. But he had not been thinking about any medals for this whole time in this new life. He did not particularly care about being the best. What he wanted was what he had before. Now someone was offering him a chance to get a one of those things back. He could skate, he wanted to.

Yuuri’s eyes widened when he realized that this was the chance to get something else too. In what else way could he fulfil the need of seeing Viktor in flesh. Even if that Viktor was younger, different, not his. At least, maybe, after confirming this he could decide that things could not be the same as before. He could come terms with it.

That thought felt like a lie, but what else could he allow himself to think. His Viktor had wanted someone like Yuuri, who knew if this other Viktor was fine as things were. He had never asked, since when had the other starting to get the idea of not being satisfied with his life, when had he noticed that he was missing something.

Would Yuuri himself even want this Viktor?

Awful question.

He would. Was he desperate for thinking that way?

In his memories, the year that had passed by had been the happiest he could remember. Was he a horrible human being for desiring to have even a fraction of that? Just a fraction, not much, but maybe a few exchanged words, glances and a smile – a real one, the heart-shaped one.

But if Yuuri would make it, how would Viktor look at him this time? Yuuri allowed a small smile slips on to his face. Would he be shocked? Maybe a little offended? Would his pride take a hit if Yuuri managed to actually place higher than him? There was a change of skating with the Viktor Nikiforov, the young Viktor. He felt the adrenaline even from the thought of it, his hands might have been shaking a little bit. Because Yuuri realized that it might even be possible. If nothing else, he could finally stand on the same podium. Maybe he could have that at least.

Would he be surprised?

…Viktor loved surprises.

_”Katsuki-kun?”_

Yuuri stared at the computer monitor and finally closed the tab.

“Yes.”

_“Yes – you want to give this a try?”_

Yuuri swallowed, trying to get the tremble out of his voice.

“Yes,” he repeated.

_Yes._

_Yes._

_Yes._

“Please,” he breathed the words out.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This part of the story is something I just had to write out at some point. Unrealistic? I don't know, maybe, but we're talking about a time travel fic so give me a break with this. I tried. The OC Moriyama-san is the hero of this chapter, and of course, Nishigoris. Bless them all.


	5. Chapter 5

Yuuri had a week left in Hasetsu, then he would have to go back to Tokyo.

Each day in this town was like a breath of fresh air in his lungs.

Every morning he decided different path to run, taking in the familiar scenery. He skated with his still quite stiff skates, blushed when he heard Yuuko clapping enthusiastically on the sideline. He held a polite conversation with the neighborhood old man who sometimes liked to fish on the bridge.

Yuuri slept in the white bleached inn sheets, not in those he remembered using, not in those mismatched sheets of different pastel colors that his mother kept collecting for some reason. He ate carefully, thinking about his diet. He thought about the way he acted around these people even more carefully.  

He tried to hold himself back, but it was hard when someone with his father’s face explained excitedly how the town’s public library got a new collection of 90’s Japanese short stories.

“I used to write for the local literature magazine in my twenties,” Toshiya Katsuki told Yuuri.

Yuuri smiled and thought, ‘ _I know.’_

He smiled during the day and grieved when the night followed.

He thought about the skating, he skated more, thought about Viktor less.

He skated, skated, skated.

His feet bled.

And he could not figure out if he was happy or sad.

Can you be both at the same time?

 

* * *

* * *

 

“Yuuri moves on ice like he lives for it,” Yuuko explained and cuddled Lutz closer. The child giggled. The reaction made the young mother grin wider.

 “Please stop, it’s embarrassing,” Yuuri muttered, his cheeks reddening.

“It’s so much fun to see the skating rink been used with enthusiasm! Oh, it takes me back to my youth…”

“Yuuko, you’re barely in your twenties,” Takeshi reminded. He had their two other daughters in his arms.

His wife ignored him, “I used to read sport magazines and dream of gliding on ice with glittery costumes.” She sighed loudly.

They were at Yutopia, gathered around a wide table and sitting on the floor.

“And what’s with the ‘Yuuko-san’?” Yuuko said, smiling widely. “I thought I was _‘Yu-chan’_. How disappointing.”

Yuuri was in the middle of taking a sip from his tea cup. He felt a little bit of the hot liquid rise up his nose.

”What?” he tried not to cough.

”Yuuri-san, so suave. I’m married woman, you know?” she winked while laughing.

Takahashi laughed boastingly next to his wife.

Yuuri blushed, realizing that he might have slipped by using the familiar nickname of his childhood friend.

“No, no, no, no, that was a mistake,” he tried to explain. He pushed his tea cup on the table.

Yuuko pouted and pointed at herself, “So, no ‘Yu-chan’?” She looked at Takeshi, “Don’t you think Yuuri-san is cruel? I thought we were friends.”

“You uploaded his performance online without permission,” her husband reminded her.

“My hand just slipped a little bit. You really can’t hold it against me. I don’t know what happened,” she said and faked a gasping sound.

Yuuri covered his face with his hand as he resigned himself in trying to fight a smile.

“You really like skating?” Yuuri said when he felt like the flush had mostly disappeared.

“Yes!” Yuuko beamed. ”I know that this might sound kind of silly, but I was called the Ice Castle’s Madonna in my teens,” she winked at him.

Yuuri grinned and shook his head, “Doesn’t sound hard to believe at all.”

“Hear that,” Yuuko giggled and jabbed Takeshi between the ribs. He let out a pained sound.

“Actually, I got some good news a little while ago,” Yuuri started to mumble. “I’m not sure if it will work out, but-“

It felt good to have someone there he could share the news with.

“I might get to skate again,” he said, his eyes glued to the table. “Skate seriously – officially.”

“Eeeh?” Yuuko shrieked. The triplets shrieked with her, parroting their mother, not really understanding what was going on. The girls kept making loud and cheerful noises after it.

The rest of the evening was full of laughter.

When Nishigoris were leaving, Yuuko trailed behind. She was holding sleeping Axel in her arms.

She turned to Yuuri and said, “You, too, really like skating, huh?”

“Love it.” Yuuri smiled playfully and leaned to the door frame. “I live for it.”

“We all need a little something to live for, don’t we?” she said and glanced at the child in her arms. She smiled warmly and looked up.

Yuuri nodded.

“Hey, Yuuri.”

“What is it, Yu-chan?” Yuuri said quietly. His eyes were on the small human clinging to onto her mother. The small hands were tightly holding the fabric of Yuuko’s coat.

“I’m glad you came here.”

Yuuri tensed his shoulders and lifted his head up to keep his eyes from getting wet.

“Thank you,” he said with a voice that came out somewhat nasal.

“Look at you,” Yuuko said with a gentle and amused voice, “now I’ve made you cry.”

 

* * *

* * *

 

“Thank you for giving me a lift, Mari-san.”

“No worries, Yuuri. It was no trouble at all,” she said, smiling.

The train arrived as Yuuri stood next to Mari on a platform. Yuuri stared at it slowing down and finally stopping fully. The arrival announced coming from the station speakers ended.

When Yuuri turned to Mari, he noticed that she was staring at him. Mari was wearing an odd expression on her face. Then she offered one of her lazy smiles and huffed. She handed him one of his bags back that she had insisted on carrying.

“I guess this is it, then,” she said.

“I guess it is,” Yuuri nodded, feeling the extra weight of the added luggage on his arms. The bag felt heavier than it had been when he had finished packing it last night. Yuuri new that someone had probably slipped in a freshly made bentou.

“You’re coming back, right?” she said.

”What makes you think that?” he asked.

”Oh, I just got the feeling,” Mari hummed.

”Feeling, huh?” Yuuri raised his eyebrows as his lips quirked.

“Yeah. You know, I got a really good sense in these kinds of things.”

She looked so alike with his Mari, Yuuri thought, instead of saying anything.

The train door opened, and Yuuri stepped in.

He turned around to take the final look of the familiar face. No one else was stepping in, so he did not have to step aside for other passengers.

She had opened a cigarette box and taken a single smoke out. Mari played with the unlit cigarette. Her eyes were glued to it. She looked thoughtful when she looked up.

”Where did you say you were from again?” she asked, sounding absentminded.

“I live in Tokyo,” Yuuri said. It was not even an answer. The truth was, he was not even sure where ‘he’ was from. He could not remember. It must have been in the documents.

She hummed again and picked a lighter out of her pocket. Then she placed the cigarette between her lips, used her hand to make a cover from the frisky wind blowing over Hasetsu, and an orange flame started to eat the white end. She slipped the lighter back into her pocket and took a long drag, inhaling the smoke in. Mari took the cigarette between her fingers and blew a bitter smelling cloud away from Yuuri. The speakers were giving the final announcement which echoed at the nearly empty Hasetsu station.

“You don’t speak like someone from Tokyo,” she said, and Yuuri could only stare as the doors closed between them.

Their eyes were locked when the train started to move away. Mari and the smoke cloud disappeared from his sight.

 

* * *

* * *

 

They had promised to meet in Tokyo – Moriyama and Yuuri. Moriyama had told him which ice rink they could use, Yuuri had shortly agreed. That was why Yuuri was in Tokyo, again, sitting in the full train during the rush hour with his Hasetsu luggage, wishing he had taken taxi from the stop where long distance train arrived in Tokyo. He was on his way home.

His _home_.

More people pressed into the already full carriage, and Yuuri tried to squeeze himself to the corner next to one of the long green train benches.

Tokyo was really something.

Before, Yuuri had the worry that maybe it would not feel right to be there – in Hasetsu. He was ready to feel out of place and confused, just like he had felt the days he had spent in his _own_ apartment.

But it had been…good.

It had been not bad at all. It had been like a home. It was a home, for him, at least. The feeling of leaving the place was melancholic.

When the train arrived in his stop, Yuuri took a deep breath, getting ready to try to push himself out of the crushing crowd.

It was not like Yuuri was not used to people. Detroit had its own rush hours, after all, as did basically all bigger cities. Yuuri had seen a fair share of places…well, mostly skating rinks, but still. It was just hard to come to terms with the fact that he lived now in Tokyo, though he had never made the conscious decision of living there. Yuuri saw a monotonous sea of black suits in front of him as he dragged himself ahead.

Yeah, he already missed Hasetsu.

When he arrived in the apartment complex, Yuuri emptied his mailbox which was a locker placed in the midst of other lockers in the corridor, right when you walked into the building. He pulled couple of letters close to his chest and prepared to face the strange rooms of his home.

The key fit smoothly into the lock. A light ‘click’ sound came out as the door opened. Yuuri walked in and threw the mail on the kitchen table.

His eyes traveled to the bathroom door. He tried not to think about the sticky red floor that he had to clean from wine and shattered piece of glass.

Yuuri opened the contacts of his phone and swiped through the list of unfamiliar names till he found the one he had been looking for.

He pressed ‘call’, rested the phone close to his ear, and waited.

The voice answered.

Yuuri plastered a smile on his face to make himself sound more cheerful.

“Hello. This is Katsuki Yuuri. Are you the landlord of…”

Yuuri kept the conversation going on, talking politely, wanting to make clear what he desired.

The old man was confused because of the sudden call. Katsuki Yuuri had lived in that apartment for four years without complain, without change of plans.

He laughed it off.

_Yuuri had changed._

He said that he just needed a change of scenery.

All he could think in his head was that he had to get out.

He could not stand this house.

He could not live there anymore.

He could never call this place a home.

 

* * *

* * *

 

Yuuri decided that he would not himself panic over the idea that if he would not be what this one person was looking for, this was it for him. He might be able to do something with skating, but there definitely would be no chance for him to find someone else to do what Moriyama was offering.

Yuuri was not an idiot.

So, instead of leading himself to the endless spiral of self-destruction, he tried to find a routine. He had paid the month’s rent, so he had a little time to find another place. He decided that he was not going to be picky. Yuuri was already playing with the idea of resigning from his job, but it had to wait a little more.

The couple of the following days were filled with exercising, stretching, maintaining his skates, apartment-hunting, and glaring at every corner of his living quarters. 

There was no room to let himself think what would happen if he could not make it.

Part of him reminded himself, _you are already gone. How could it be worse?_

He thought about sweet Viktor and what there could have been.

Yuuri wished he would have let himself lean a little closer when Viktor shoved his face close to Yuuri’s in the mornings, asking intrusive questions, and laughing at Yuuri’s flushing skin.

Yuuri wished he had leaned over, instead of pushing Viktor away while laughing because he had thought that there would be time.

It had been love, hadn’t it?

When you want to see the same face every morning, and when you want to be that close.

That is what love is, right?

He should have just let himself have what he wanted.

 

* * *

* * *

 

Yuuri tightened the black laces.

He grimaced at the fit of his skates. It was not like they were bad, just somehow uncomfortable and unfamiliar.

“Sorry if you had to cut your vacation short with your family.”

Yuuri looked up.

Moriyama stood tall in front of him. His height made the man look somehow intimidating, hovering over the skater. He was wearing a sharp grey suit, tie knotted neatly, brown leather shoes shining.

“I wasn’t visiting my family,” Yuuri said shortly.

“I thought-,” the older man started, confusion pulling his eyebrows up. “The name of the owner –Katsuki Hiroko, wasn’t it?” He looked a little unsure.

“I’m an orphan,” Yuuri said with more ease than he thought he could manage.

“Distant relatives, then?”

Yuuri rolled his shoulders back and felt the nice stretch. He could not wait to be on ice again.

“I don’t have a family.”

The other man paused before talking again, like he was trying to select the right words.

“I’m sorry, I assumed.” Moriyama’s words came out hesitant.

The uncertain expression did not suit him. Yuuri did not want uncertainty, he needed someone to pull him through.

“Don’t worry about it,” Yuuri said and stood up.

With the skates on he still was a lot shorter than his, hopefully, future sponsor.

Moriyama seemed not to be a man who asked too many question, and Yuuri was grateful. So, instead of making a nosy comment, Moriyama let his own eyes sharpen. He lifted left arm so that he had the view of his expensive looking silver watch.

“I hope you don’t mind that I invited a friend of mine.” The man smiled with full confident radiating from him. “I love skating, but I have to admit that I might not have an actual discreet eye on the sport’s technique in practice, much to my own disappointment.”

Yuuri glanced at the ice rink. He was not familiar with this place.

‘ _Good,’_ he thought. This place would do.

One of the walls had a long row of wide windows which reached from the floor high enough to brighten the ice with the natural daylight.

“I know me calling you might have come out somewhat spontaneous or even reckless, but trust me, Katsuki-kun, this decision was made with the help of various people. I do my research-“

Yuuri was glad that this so-called research had not been apparently been aimed to reach much for his personal life. That was, if the lack of knowledge of Katsuki Yuuri’s family relations was anything to go by. Or maybe he honestly had no interest in anything else in Yuuri than what necessary showed in his skating. Yuuri did not mind. He was not completely sure if he wanted to know himself either.

“So, if your performance today will not reach to our standards, I’m very sorry, but this will not any further from this rink. I hope you understand.” He did not exactly look very ‘sorry’.

Moriyama seemed calculating, more than anything. It was not exactly a surprise. Figure skating was an expensive sport. Yuuri had no doubt that this man would be able to afford paying it. Sometimes it was just easy to tell from people.

“I do. I wasn’t expecting anything less,” Yuuri admitted.

Moriyama’s eyes did not stray from Yuuri’s face for a little while. When he seemed to be satisfied with something a small smile appeared.

Yuuri felt his own shoulders relax, too. He had not been aware of the stiffness in the first place.

Moriyama huffed loudly and nodded to himself.

“Now that we both are clear about this, let’s see what you can do.”

Moriyama’s eyes gleamed with excitement. Yuuri could recognize that feeling, and he realized, this man really loved skating.

The older man was already ushering him into the rink. “Go on, go on. My friend will be here shortly, but you should start warming up.”

Yuuri removed his dull black and worn out guards. He would be buying more colorful ones in the future, he promised himself. Then he pushed himself away from the edge, leaving Moriyama standing alone. Yuuri thought he might have heard a sound of door opening behind him, but his attention was already on elsewhere.

The sound of the blade hitting the ice was all he heard, the chill of ice beneath him was all he felt.

This

was his home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know many of you wrote that you are happy for Yuuri because he might have the chance to compete again, but honestly, he's obviously not exactly satisfied with his life at the moment. He knows he can't really stay in Hasetsu and that he has to start a new page in life. He's a mess, but I think he's on the right track. All in good time.
> 
> Also, I just really like Mari. sigh
> 
> //wow, so I just realized I have written 5 chapters of YuurixViktor fic with basically no Viktor. You guys are being patient.
> 
>  
> 
> [✿](http://queenoffennoscandia.tumblr.com/)


End file.
